


Find You in the Day [ARCHIVED]

by Rhiannon87



Series: Some Sort of Crazy [ARCHIVED] [8]
Category: Uncharted
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon87/pseuds/Rhiannon87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elena knows she's supposed to be the one with common sense-- but Nate's gone and Sully's been kidnapped, so it falls to her to go charging headlong into danger. Set during Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find You in the Day [ARCHIVED]

**Author's Note:**

> This is the original version of the fic. The revised/rewritten version can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6363208).

“The plane will be leaving at dawn,” Rashid says. Elena can hear papers rustling on the other end of the phone. “I am certain of this.”

Elena sighs. “All right, all right...” She's been asking him to verify the time for the past two hours. He's a patient man, but clearly he's getting a little fed up. She looks down at her maps and charts as she paces across the room.

“It will be well-guarded--”

“Yeah, I understand.” He's also been warning her about the men with guns for the past two hours. Elena's much more inclined to ignore that. “Can you call me, ah, if anything changes...” She trails off as the door creaks open. Nate slumps against the door frame; he’s covered in dirt and grime and blood, looking beaten in every sense of the word. “Oh my god,” Elena breathes, lowering the phone. “I gotta go,” she tells Rashid and hangs up before he can respond. Nate steps into the apartment, bracing himself on the wall, and Elena shoves her phone in her pocket. “Nate!” She throws her arms around him. He smells like saltwater and blood, and he sags against her, clearly unable to entirely support his own weight.

“Hey...” He gets one arm around her waist and awkwardly pats her on the back. “I thought this was frowned upon.”

Elena lets out a strangled half-laugh. “Shut up,” she says. Nate looks like he's been dragged through hell and back. “I really thought you were gone this time,” she admits. She'd had almost every one of her contacts in the city looking for him, and every hour without word, her hopes had dwindled. She'd focused on rescuing Sully to keep from losing her mind completely.

“Nah...” Nate says, shaking his head slightly. He's still wavering on his feet.

“Are you okay?” Elena asks and rests her hand on the side of his neck. He's overheated, almost feverish. God, what happened to him?

Nate ignores the question, unsurprisingly. “Is, uh... Is Sully...?”

Oh. Oh, no. Elena drops her hand and looks down. “He's alive.”

“Oh, thank god.” The words come out on a heavy breath, and Nate moves past her into the living room, as though expecting Sully to be in there somewhere.

“But they've got him,” Elena continues. It's not her fault-- she _knows_ it's not her fault-- but she still blames herself. Splitting up was her idea, and it was a good one, because if she and Sully had been together they might have both been captured. And given Nate's current state, there'd be no hope for any of them. But none of that stops the guilt.

“What?” Nate asks. “Where?”

Elena sighs. “They're in a convoy, headed in to the desert.”

For a second, Nate looks utterly exhausted. Then he turns and takes half a stumbling step to the door. “We gotta go--”

“Whoa-whoah, whoa, no.” Elena jumps in front of him, her hands on his chest, feet braced in case she has to tackle him backwards to stop him. He doesn't seem to have the strength to fight her, because he lets her guide him back towards the couch. “No, it's not-- it's not that simple. C'mon.” One last push, and Nate collapses onto the couch with a groan. She leaves him there and closes the door, making sure to lock it-- and she can't believe she left it _unlocked_ in the first place, the lack of sleep must really be getting to her. “They've got at least two days' head start on us,” she says. “So, we'll never catch up.”

“We—we gotta try,” Nate insists, almost desperate, holding himself up on one elbow.

Elena sits down. “Listen,” she says, trying to calm him. “I've got a plan.” She turns to the table and moves her notepad and coffee cup aside to show him the map. “But we're only gonna get one shot at this.”

Nate exhales. “Okay.”

“They're loading up a cargo plane at the airport,” she says. “They're gonna make a supply drop to the convoy.”

“We gotta be on that plane.”

She nods. “Exactly.”

Nate smiles a little. “You do realize,” he begins as she turns back to look at her notes, “that means parachuting in, right?”

She chuckles a bit at the memory. Nate had told her later-- much, much later-- that that had been the first time he'd parachuted out of anything. “We've done it before,” she says with a wry grin.

Nate manages a rough laugh. “Not well.” Elena nods, unable to argue that point. “Okay,” Nate says. “I could... really use a glass of water, and then we oughta get going.”

He starts to sit up; Elena turns and presses him back into the couch. “No, no, no, no, no, no.” She grabs his arm to hold him in place. “My contact at the airport says that the plane isn't taking off until dawn. It's just after three, there's no rush.” Nate closes his eyes for a moment in what she can only assume is relief. “In the meantime,” Elena continues, “just try to get a couple hours' sleep.” A shower and a hot meal probably wouldn't go amiss, either, not to mention an appointment with a first aid kit... but given that she can feel him shaking under her hands, sleep's the priority.

Nate groans and shakes his head. “I don't think that's a good idea--”

She knew he'd say that. Stubborn ass. “Come on, all right?” she says, grabbing the back of his holster and physically dragging him down into a horizontal position. “He'll call if anything changes.” Nate doesn't fight her and settles his head in her lap; it's so comfortable and familiar and right that it makes her heart ache.

He grunts in pain as he stiffly swings one leg up over the arm of the couch. “You were really gonna do all this on your own, huh?” he asks, pointing at the mess on the table.

“For Sully?” For her friend and Nate's father? Without question. “Yeah.”

Nate gets his other leg up on the couch and looks up at her. “I like the way you think.”

“I know.” Elena runs her fingers through his hair; he's a tactile person, always touching everything, and he seems to crave physical contact in return. She could always get his attention with a shoulder rub or a scalp massage.

Well. Almost always.

He looks away, shaking his head slightly, a pained expression crossing his face. “No, I mean that's...”

Why I love you, Elena finishes silently. They've been together for four years, at a generous count, married for close to two, and she can count on both hands the number of times he's said those three words to her. He tried to show it in other ways, bringing random trinkets home because they reminded him of her, sending dinner to her office when she was working late, but he always said he wasn't very good at that sort of thing.

Truth be told, neither of them is very good at this. For all the talking they do, they can't communicate. He dodges the important discussions and she lets him, and they both end up miserable with everything they can't or won't say. And much as she hates to admit it, Elena knows that if Nate hadn't walked out first, she probably would have done it herself.

Elena looks down at him. “I know what you mean,” she says.

Nate turns his head after a moment and raises his hand to hers, and while she can't see his eyes she knows he's staring at her ring. His sigh is more of a full-body shudder than an exhalation. “I'm sorry,” he says, sounding broken, and closes his eyes.

She pats his hand, but doesn't move her fingers away. “I know,” she says. It’s an apology for everything he’s done, everything he is, and much as she wants to just pull him into her arms and tell him none of it matters… it’d be a lie, to say that. It does matter. In the four years they’ve known each other, they’ve spent more time apart than together, and he's broken her heart more than once. But they love each other, that’s never gone away, and while that love alone isn’t enough to fix things... it’s enough to make her want to try.

She sighs and rests her cheek against her free hand. They both need to get some rest. She's got an alarm set on her phone for seven, a reminder to eat after she forgot all day yesterday. A few hours of sleep won't hurt either of them.

“'lena?” Nate murmurs, his fingers squeezing hers for a moment.

So much for sleep. “Mm?”

He hesitates for a moment. “What happened after Talbot drugged me?”

“Oh, Nate.” Her hand goes back to his hair. “You told us to run, and then you took off. We tried to follow you, but-- well, most people just run in a straight line when they panic. You... climb buildings.”

Nate chuckles weakly. “Are you really surprised?”

“Heh. No.” It had been rather disheartening to watch Nate scale a three story building and disappear over the roof, though. “We scoured the city for you. Split up to cover more ground. That's when they got Sully.”

Nate turns his face against her leg. “Stupid,” he mutters. “I was so _stupid_. I gave Marlowe everything, the notes, the journal, my damn ring... tried to get Talbot, you know, take a counter-hostage, make 'em give Sully back... ended up with Ramses-- I ever tell you 'bout Ramses?”

Elena frowns for a moment, thinking. “Ramses-- no-good soulless pirate who'd sell his sister for a pack of cigarettes?”

“Yeah.” Nate sighs again. “Took me prisoner, wanted to know where Iram is, said he had Sully an' he'd torture him for information if I wouldn't tell.” He laughs, a bitter, twisted thing that sounds closer to a sob. “Climbed across a whole fuckin' shipyard, killed I dunno how many of Ramses's men to get to his damn ship... and Sully wasn't there. Never had 'im.” Nate's starting to slur his words; Elena's not sure if it's exhaustion or emotion or both. “Two goddamn days I wasted. If I'd just... just come back here... we could've done something...”

“Shh, Nate, it's okay,” she murmurs. “It's okay. You were in a bad place. You were working with what you had.”

“I'm just so _tired_ ,” he says roughly.

“You can sleep.” Elena keeps stroking her hand through his hair. “I'm here. My gun's here. Nothing's gonna happen, okay? Just sleep.”

The change is almost instantaneous-- one second, he's tense and shaking; the next, his body's gone limp as exhaustion finally wins out. Elena lets out a slow breath and leans her head against the back of the couch. She'd said this obsession would be the death of him, but god, she hadn't thought he'd come so close.

*

It's dark when the buzzing of her phone startles her awake. Nate almost rolls off the couch as he tries to jump to his feet and grab for a gun that he doesn't have. “Whoa, whoa, easy, Nate,” Elena says, putting her hands on his shoulders to steady him. “It’s okay.”

Nate blinks, breathing hard, then slumps back against the couch. “Shit,” he mutters. “What's that for?”

Elena shifts out from under him and grabs her phone to shut off the alarm, squinting at the sudden light from the screen. “Reminder to get food,” she says.

“You need that?” Nate asks. “I was always the one who forgot basic things like food and sleep.”

“Yeah, well, you and Sully were both gone,” she says. “I had other things on my mind.”

Nate sighs and sits up, stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah,” he says. “Right. Okay. Food.”

Elena chuckles at his sleepy tone. “Tell you what,” she says. “Why don't you shower, and I'll run out and get something?” She can pick up another gun from Harith while she's at it.

“Need to get my clothes,” Nate mutters. “Can you--”

“Already done,” Elena says. “I moved your and Sully's bags in here yesterday. Seemed safer.” And she could tell herself she was holding onto their things until they came back.

Nate smiles at her. “What would I do without you?”

Bait extremely powerful, extremely angry people and run off after lifelong obsessions, going by the evidence. “End up walking around naked, probably,” Elena says instead. “Which is frowned upon.”

He chuckles. “I figured.”

Elena smiles and stands up. “Go shower,” she says. “I'll be back soon.”

Forty minutes later, she slips back into the apartment, carrying an oversized bag loaded with food, guns, and ammo. Nate's poring over her notes and looking worlds better, the layer of bloody grime gone from his skin. “Mind clearing that so we can eat?” Elena asks.

“Huh?” Nate blinks at her, and his confused look is a familiar one. She saw it a lot, before he left, when he seemed to go somewhere thousands of miles away for days at a time. Then the look vanishes and he shakes his head. “Oh, yeah.” He gathers everything up in a disorderly pile and sets it on the other half of the couch. Elena starts pulling the food out of the bag, deliberately saving the pistol for somewhere around the halfway point, just to see the look on Nate's face.

The wide eyes and raised eyebrows don't disappoint. “There's a restaurant that deals in black-market guns?”

Elena snorts. “There's three, actually, but they're on the other side of the city,” she says as she passes it over. “I got this from the rug merchant.”

Nate laughs wryly and shakes his head. “You're doing well here, aren't you.”

“Well enough.” Aden's not bad, and she gets to do a decent amount of traveling for her reports. But the main appeal was distance from Nate, and she's not sure if she wants that anymore. She's not sure what she wants in general.

He's looking thoughtful and guilty again, and there's too much going on for them to try talking things out now. “C'mon,” she says, gesturing at the food. “We'll eat and go over the plan.”

“Right.” Nate starts opening containers and peering at the contents. “I could really go for a beer,” he mutters. “But I _know_ they don't approve of that sort of thing.”

Elena chuckles. “We're about to go rescue Sully,” she points out. “I'm sure that earns us a round or two on him.”

Nate glances at her out of the corner of his eye, and it takes her a minute to realize what she's said. The three of them getting drinks somewhere implies that she'll be leaving with them when all this is over. It's how these misadventures have always ended, with the three of them together. Elena shakes her head to clear it and gestures at the maps on the couch. “You get a good look at those?” she asks, and forces herself to focus on the task at hand.


End file.
